Page 29 of The Life We Left Behind

When the south pasture came into sight, I spotted her on the other side of the gate, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. The iron gate’s hinges squeaked suspiciously as I climbed over, and I dropped down into the mud on the other side, no doubt ruining the leather of my Italian loafers.

Delaney didn’t turn around. She stood a few meters further into the pasture, staring out across the land.

There was a reason why I’d chosen this place. The James’s land sat slightly higher than most of the surrounding parcels, the pasture had a gentle slope down toward the town, and the views were honestly spectacular. They cut across the fields, revealing all of Willowbrook sprawled out below.

I never understood why the farmhouse had been built where it was. This is where I would have put my house, with a full wrap-around porch and a porch swing where Delaney and I would drink coffee every morning.

“I always forget how beautiful it is out here,” Delaney murmured as I approached her. “Everything always seems too peaceful.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Chelsea. She had no right to do that to you.” My fingers itched to reach for her, but I held back. I hadn’t earned that yet, but I would.

“This time, or ten years ago?” she asked.

Ten years ago had been a misunderstanding. I was a kid. I wasn’t thinking straight. Surely she could see that now. If I was honest, I was a little pissed as well. She was the one who left. Delaney could have stayed and fought for me. She could have tried to talk to me, believed the best of me. Instead, she chose to leave. To cut me out. Hell, I’d wanted to marry her. Delaney was the love of my life. She still was.

She didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t let it drop. Even if it was just to make sure that she knew the truth. The terrible, awful truth that I’d never wanted to tell a single soul before. She had tounderstand, and the only way that could happen was if she knew the truth.

“Chelsea and I got married four years ago. I promise you, there was never anything between us when we were together. Whatever else I’ve done in the past, I can promise you that I was always faithful to you. The marriage was a mistake. I think we both knew it at the time, but we’d dated on and off for a couple of years, and it was expected of us. I knew better, but I guess I just did what I thought I was supposed to do. It didn’t even occur to me if we’d be happy.” I wanted to stop. I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat just at the thought of saying the rest. But I wanted to cut myself free from this awful fucking life I’d hidden from the rest of town.

“She always had a possessive streak. She hated seeing me with anyone else, near another woman. We argued all the time, and then she gradually got more and more aggressive. It started slowly at first. A thrown vase, a slammed door when I just happened to be standing there. I never raised a hand to her, Delaney. I swear I didn’t. But after a while, I couldn’t take it anymore. She spent half her nights in some other man’s bed, and then when she was at home, she was always so fucking angry. Lashing out. She busted two of my ribs once when she thought she smelled perfume on me. Booker was the one who talked some sense into me. I was so fucking ashamed. What kind of man lets his wife beat him up? Anyway, I filed the paperwork, and the divorce came through last year. Not that she seems to want to accept it. She even just shows up inside my house, and I have no idea how she gets the key.”

Delaney was staring at me with the fiercest expression on her face. There was none of the pity or awkwardness that I’d always expected would come if I ever had the balls to admit this stuff to someone.

“She fucking laid a hand on you!” Delaney suddenly shouted, and I couldn’t help but grin. This was the Delaney I remembered. The one I’d fallen for so hard and so fast there had never been any looking back.

“It’s okay?—”

“It most definitely isnotokay,” she interrupted. “There was always something off about her, but I never thought she’d?—”

“Hey. Look, I know it’s not okay what she did. I’m just saying that it’s okay. I’m out of that situation now, and there’s no way I’m ever going back. Hell, I don’t even know why I stayed as long as I did. The last time she broke into my house, I called Ethan and had her arrested. It’s not been the easiest thing to go through with the courts, but Booker has been trying to get me to take out a restraining order against her since this whole thing started and, well, I’m doing it this time. I guess I just didn’t want it all to get out, you know. I’m…I’m embarrassed.”

I couldn’t look at her then. Not when she realized what a complete and utter failure I was as a man. I’d gone to so many lengths to keep this stuff private, and pretty soon it would be all over town.

It was easy to tell Delaney. She was different. There had never been anything I couldn’t tell her. She’d never judge me. Never hate me. This was Delaney James. My childhood sweetheart and the keeper of all my secrets.

When I finally had the courage to look back at her, a single tear broke free from her lashes and rolled down her cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Trace,” she whispered.

I shook my head. I didn’t want her sympathy. I didn’t need it. It was a shitty break, and I wasn’t the only person in the world that it had happened to. I wouldn’t be the last. At least I had Booker to help me do whatever needed to be done, and I’d forever be grateful to my bother for that.

“I’m sorry too, Delaney.”

Her tears started flowing faster then, and I hated that I was the cause of them. I was just about to tell her not to waste her tears on me when she flew toward me, wrapping her arms around me with the same fierceness she always had. My arms closed around her, and I tangled my fingers in her beautiful hair as I clung to her. Holding her as close as possible. I felt the dampness of my cheeks as my own tears joined hers, both of us purging the pain of a world that didn’t understand us when we needed it the most.

It hurt. It tore at my heart with a viciousness I wasn’t prepared for, because the pain she was feeling was partly because of me. Even so, it was the best I’d felt in years, because it came so close to finally feeling like I was free.

We didn’t break apart until the first drops of rain hit us and the soft crack of thunder sounded in the distance.

“Shit, there’s a storm rolling in.”

I peered up at the clouds, hopeful it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, and it was like they were waiting for me to acknowledge them because at that moment the rain started to pour.

Delaney screamed, and then laughed. Her arms were held out to the side as she looked down at her clothes that were already saturated and clinging to her body.

I could already feel the shirt sticking to my skin, but at least I didn’t have to worry about the mud ruining the leather on my shoes anymore. The rain was doing that for me.

The tension between us broke as quickly as the weather had, and she grabbed my hand, yanking on it as she turned and started to run.

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